


BLEEDING HEART AND FIREWHISKEY

by Tales of Josan archivist (nocturnus)



Series: Old Meddler's universe [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Written Pre-Half Blood Prince
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-30 02:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10866876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocturnus/pseuds/Tales%20of%20Josan%20archivist
Summary: Severus and Percy are happy. It can't last. It looks like events are set to tear them apart, but Percy has a plan.Sequel to The Old Meddler





	1. Part 1 by Josan

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally archived by Josan at Tales_of_Josan blog at Live Journal. She hasn’t updated since 2008. Lj administration reserve the right to delete inactive blogs. I am merely putting her fics onto AO3 so that they are safe from any issues on LJ.  
> I'm doing this for the purpose of preserving her fics.

"Would you pass me the powdered Bleeding Heart?"

Severus checked off another item on his list and looked up. Since he'd  
acquired this assistant of his, his inventory was ruthlessly kept up-to-date.  
He reached over into the small box that had arrived that morning from one  
of his suppliers, and pulled out the requested item.

"Powdered Bleeding Heart," he said as he handed over the small paper box.  
Percy accepted it with a nod then decanted the contents into the proper vial.

Severus knew that, within Hogwarts, he had often been referred to as ‘a  
fussy old maid'. Not just by the students but by the staff; now and then in  
his own hearing, to his face by the braver ones.

Like Minerva McGonagall.

In that case, he used to retaliate with, "You would know." Except that fussy  
exactness was not, according to his experience, a Gryffindor trait. Granger  
had, of course, been an exception. But he'd always thought Albus had  
arranged that with the Sorting Hat, to keep Potter under some control.  
Mind, until Potter, Severus had had no real reason to pay any great attention  
to Gryffindor, other than to remove points or hand out detention.

Now, it seemed, she had not been the only exception. Not only did Percy  
order supplies in alphabetical order, he unpacked them in alphabetical order.

"Powdered Cinquefoil."

There were advantages. When shown the ingredients part of his laboratory,  
where Severus had allowed his inner ‘fussy old maid' free rein, Percy hadn't  
expressed any kind of surprise. And he had silently taken over control of  
that section of the lab without his being asked. Without a comment as to the  
set-up. Yes, as should be expected by anyone who had been a student of  
his, ingredients were stored in alphabetical order. But Severus sometimes  
felt that he had been a little too diligent when he'd set up that part of his  
laboratory.

Because he'd also sorted them by composition. Liquids were in one set of  
cabinets, pure substances in another, alloys in yet another; natural  
ingredients – in their separated various states – were kept apart from  
fabricated. And all in alphabetical order.

Severus had needed that sense of order when he'd arrived at the cottage.  
The War had lasted far too long and been hard on all of them. Death had  
stared Severus in the face a little too often to be pleased at his escaping;  
his nerves had not been at their best. Arranging the storage and the  
laboratory had helped soothe them.

Within a week of his arrival, Percy had the entire system worked out. He'd  
taken over when one or two orders had to be set aside because critical  
ingredients had run low. Severus often got so involved in brewing that he  
forgot to notice when supplies were running low.

Another thing: Percy was as diligent as Severus himself when it came to  
putting things back where they belonged. He treated the tools of his  
profession with the same respect. Severus had spent a good portion of his  
saved wages on quality instruments. No dented student cauldrons here, no  
battered scales, no bent implements. Only the best that money could buy.

Though he wouldn't admit it aloud, Severus was quite proud of his lab. And  
growing very dependent on his assistant.

"Did Seoirgi make up for the shortfall in powdered Dragon's Claw from the  
last order?"

Severus checked both invoice and the label on the small container. "It would  
seem so."

His meticulous assistant.

How in heaven's name had Percy been born to the Weasleys? Might he be a  
changeling? He certainly didn't have that gregarious energy Severus had  
come to associate with the other boys he had taught. Ron might be quieter,  
he too tended to...to spark when so moved. Even the girl had that  
ability. She had certainly ‘sparked' any Death Eater in her sights during the  
last confrontation.

But Percy hadn't sparked at Hogwarts. He'd been steady, stuffy, even  
sanctimonious. And he had glowered, usually at his older brothers,  
especially at his younger siblings.

Now that Severus thought about it, there had been a lot of anger in young  
Percy. As there had been in himself at that age. With a similar result,  
though Percy didn't bear a faded tattoo on his left forearm.

Severus was surprised to discover that, other than meticulousness and bad  
decisions at a young age, they had a lot more in common. Both liked to  
read quietly in the evenings. Not something he would have thought  
possible in a Weasley. Had Percy's time in Azkaban changed that?  
Somehow Severus didn't think so. His very first night at the cottage, Percy  
had asked permission to browse with the sort of breath-held anticipation that  
had Severus granting it. His only proviso, sternly pronounced, had been that  
all books were returned to the place from which they were taken. He may  
have kept his laboratory strictly regulated by conventional means, but his  
library was sorted into categories that had meaning only to himself. Percy  
had respected that to the point where he would return the book every  
evening, even if he hadn't done with it. Severus had pointed out that once  
read would be sufficient.

"Dried Jewelweed?"

"No, there's a note that says his supplier doesn't feel his crop was up to  
requirements."

"Hmmm? Should I order it from Jigger's?"

Severus shook his head. "I'll add it to the Knockturn list." He reached over  
with his quill and did just that. As usual, Percy made no comment.

The need for privacy was another thing they had in common. Severus  
couldn't for one moment imagine that, had the Twins been here, his  
bedroom would have been off limits. He couldn't imagine it even with Ron,  
though he might wait until Severus had left the cottage for one of his  
monthly forays into the World, for sensitive items that could not be  
purchased in any other manner than in person. Uncomfortable and yes,  
slightly dangerous – there were still people out there who were after him –  
though that experience might be.

Not that he hadn't tested Percy. He had set up a special ward on his  
bedroom door that would allow him to know if and who had entered while  
he'd been gone. After a couple of months, he took down the ward, confident  
that Percy had the ability to keep his nose to himself. And Severus returned  
the favour. Once he'd introduced Percy to the other bedroom in the cottage,  
furnished as his was with bed, wardrobe, bureau, writing desk, chair and  
lamp, he had never done more than knock on the door in passing to call his  
assistant to work.

Actually, he'd only done it the once, since Percy had already been not only  
up, but preparing morning tea in the kitchen.

"Did he find any Life-Everlasting?"

Severus checked his list. "Yes, but not the flowers. It seems they're being  
sent separately. Probably some time this week."

"Maybe we should grow our own. There's a corner in the garden that would  
be perfect for it."

Severus had bought the cottage not for its space as it was the basic two  
rooms up – three if one counted the large bathroom Severus had installed by  
taking down the wall between the small one that had come with the place  
and a large storage cupboard – and two down. The kitchen took up half that  
space as it also served as dining area. The rest was, well, Severus supposed  
he could call it his parlour, though it was more library than sitting room.

No, what had caught his attention was the root cellar in the back yard.  
Accessed by descending ten steps, its roof was all that was above ground  
level. And that was grassed so that it looked to be part of the yard itself.  
The battered doors had now been replaced with one of thick, solid oak, and  
the interior and slate floor extended. Not his Hogwarts dungeon, but a close  
enough approximation for Severus to feel he could brew comfortably.

Moreover, the price had been right. The property had not been in the best  
of condition, and the very elderly witch who was selling had not been  
interested in the goings-on outside Sighty Crag for decades. That part of the  
Cheviot Hills was fairly isolated and so she had no reason to refuse to sell to  
a former Death Eater, hero though he might have been in the War. All she'd  
wanted was enough to be able to go live with a granddaughter and not be  
totally dependent on her.

"Your decision. The garden is, after all, your domain." Severus handed  
Percy the Lobelia which was next on the list.

"We could grow this as well."

Though Percy had spent his post-Hogwarts years sitting at a desk, the  
lessons he'd been taught there had stuck in his brain. It had taken Percy  
several weeks to refamiliarise himself with potions work, but when he had,  
Severus recollected the young man who had brewed excellent, though not  
innovative potions in his NEWT classes. Nothing like what the Twins had  
produced, of course; but then again, Percy had never blown up his cauldron,  
set fire to the lab, nor changed his classmates into six-foot tall farting  
cockateels.

There was something to be said for staid, solid work.

"Lobelia would do well next to the Nightshade." Percy pushed back the  
glasses that had slipped to the end of his nose. He pulled on a pair of old  
dragonhide gloves before transferring the powdered bark to its container  
with the care it deserved.

Gradually, Severus had been turning over the orders for non-complex  
potions to Percy. His enterprise was still too new for him to refuse any  
order, even the mundane ones. Severus wanted a solid reputation  
established before he began rejecting those.

As he'd told Percy, his reputation from school saw to it that people expected  
the best from him and it was up to him to satisfy those expectations. Which  
was why he charged what he did. And got away with it. Oh, they could  
always go to other brewers, who would probably produce an adequate  
potion. But a potion with the Snape name on it was of only the very highest  
quality, or it didn't have his name on it. And it didn't leave his lab.

They'd moved from unpacking ingredients to looking over the rest of the  
morning's mail, and from the lab to the kitchen for another cup of tea to do  
so. Severus appreciated that Percy understood that anything which  
resembled a potion had to be made in a certain way. For example, the tea  
Percy was preparing. The water was not heated with a spell, but the kettle  
was allowed to come to a boil while sitting on a hob. The proper proportion  
of air and water was important for a good cup of tea. Severus had drunk far  
too many bad ones to permit bad tea in his own home.

That first morning, Percy had only nodded, poured out the spell-boiled water  
and refilled the kettle.

Mind, he'd looked a little more taken aback the day he'd realised that  
Severus had not been joking about charging people more for the same  
potion, depending on who they were. Though he hadn't said anything, Percy  
had been rather scandalised when he'd noted that former Gryffindors always  
paid a little more at the very least. He'd actually raised an eyebrow at that,  
glowered a moment, then shaken his head, accepting.

Severus was pleased that his petty revenge had been allowed to pass. He  
really didn't know what he'd done if Percy had challenged him on it.

Severus sipped his perfectly brewed tea as he read one of the more  
interesting orders that had arrived that morning. "Adrastus Ponticlair is  
requesting Acceptio Fanatica."

Percy looked up from cutting his toast into perfect squares. "Borderline  
legal," he offered without judgement as he reached for the jam. His hand  
stopped over the pot. "Hufflepuff, wasn't he? A couple of years older than  
me."

Severus thought a moment, going over the files he mentally kept on past  
students, before nodding. "Lots of money. Has delusions of a political  
future. This potion sprayed on him would make him wildly popular."

Percy snorted softly as he began spreading the jam evenly on two of the four  
squares. Severus had no idea where Percy stood on the politics of the day;  
it was one of the many subjects they hadn't discussed. Probably never  
would if Severus had his way.

"We're running low on chimera blood," Percy commented neutrally as he  
carefully ate the square of toast over his plate. Though Severus did note  
that his eyes were quite amused as he said it.

Chimera blood was wildly expensive. And wasn't it an incredible coincidence  
that the price for a vial of it was the same as for the one of Acceptio  
Fanatica with the Snape label on it.

Well, people deserved what they got if a smell could buy their vote.

The sharp clang of a bell caught both their attentions. Percy shrugged in  
response to Severus's raised eyebrow and stood up to see what had brought  
this late mail owl.

"Malfoy's owl," he tossed, resignedly, over his shoulder at the back door  
before going out to deal with the arrogant bastard: Severus refused to deal  
with the thing. Malfoy's huge eagle owl had the temperament of a  
hippogriff. One had to approach it with caution, bowing to the brute, waiting  
until it deigned to nod before one tried to remove the message off its leg. It  
would endure the procedure with a glare then make a production of shaking  
itself as though repulsed by the whole thing before taking off. At least, this  
time, it had arrived after the regular mail delivery, otherwise it would have  
chased any messenger off the mail perch, installing itself as the priority.  
Once it left, the regular owls had to be fussed over with extra treats, settling  
tempers and not-so-imagined slights. Of course, being a Malfoy owl, it was  
too important to wait for a response or to pick up a potion; those were sent  
on by Severus's own owl.

"What does the brat want this time?" asked Severus as Percy came through,  
opening the seal on the heavy parchment.

Because Draco Malfoy had survived the War though neither of his parents  
had.

Percy looked over his glasses as he handed the message to Severus. "He  
wants another batch of Sementis Maxima. It would seem that the  
new Lady Malfoy is still not pregnant."

Severus raised an eyebrow as he reached out for the note. He glanced down  
at the tersely-worded order and snorted. "Magic or not, it takes 70 days for  
new sperm to generate. Bloody idiot refuses to accept that fact. And he  
wouldn't be needing our help if the Malfoys hadn't inbred or wed equally  
inbred families for the purposes of keeping their lines pure. Draco should  
have remembered that a little new blood might have seen to the easier  
promotion of the next generation of Malfoys."

Percy grinned. An improvement that, as he had rarely smiled when he'd first  
got here. "Isn't that Slytherin heresy?" The teasing was new as well.  
Severus thought it meant the man was more comfortable with him.

"A little common blood every few generations is a good idea. Most families  
see to it; they just don't talk about it."

"For a while, there was a rumour that he and Ginny were an item."

Severus snorted. "Your sister has better sense than that."

Which his inner snark was delighted to see had taken Percy by surprise. Just  
because Weasleys – most Weasleys he forced himself to amend –  
drove him crazy didn't mean that he underestimated them. "Well," he  
returned to the note, "the roof on the house will probably need replacing  
before the winter. It can be paid for far more easily with Malfoy money than  
with Snape."

He waited for a moment for Percy's protest and was relieved when it didn't  
make it past a thought. He knew that legally all he had to pay the man was  
the pittance rate of a novice assistant. But Percy was worth more than that  
to him and so Severus paid him what he thought he was worth. There'd  
been some initial protests that it was far too much – and Percy had probably  
been right – but he had never before had an assistant. Besides, the man  
had come to the cottage with the clothes on his back and very few personal  
items. He had never had the contents of his bed-sit returned to him other  
than the satchel he'd had with him at the time of his arrest. And he'd  
needed clothes as well as personal items. Severus knew that Percy was  
Weasley enough not to appreciate anything that could be construed as  
charity.

They settled to work in the lab, Severus beginning on Draco's order while  
Percy dealt with the ones for Pepper-Up and Skele-Gro, required by the local  
Quidditch team.

Severus had discovered over the past months that he, who had never before  
been able to share a work space, had no trouble sharing this one. Mind,  
Percy knew to stick to his own part of the lab, never invading Severus's.  
And he was not a talker. Severus would never have been able to tolerate  
him, no matter how good a brewer, had he required any kind of chatting  
while at work.

Who knew, when Severus had obeyed what Albus had called a "request, for  
old time's sake", that he would end up with not just a tolerable house-mate,  
but an excellent assistant?

Severus paused in his grinding of Bitter Candytuft seeds and thought about  
that for a moment. Hell, that old meddler probably had. He had already  
commented, with not much approval, on the location of the cottage and its  
condition. On his, according to Albus, sequestering himself off in the middle  
of nowhere.

"You have no reason to do so, Severus. You are an acknowledged hero of  
the War, my boy. That Order of Merlin, First Class says so."

Severus snorted softly to himself as he scraped the crushed seeds into the  
cauldron. As if he would ever be received with anything other than mistrust  
and disparagement. No, this was best. Here he had everything he had ever  
dreamt of having. A home that suited him. A laboratory that allowed him to  
work as he wished. Property upon which to grow the basic herbs and plants  
he needed.

And he wasn't living in solitude: he had Percy, assistant and companion.

He looked over his shoulder as Percy stirred, in the approved manner, the  
potion he was working on.

Percy was looking much better. First of all, he ate three meals a day – or as  
many as they remembered to eat. Like himself, if Percy was involved with a  
potion, the rest of the world could come to an end and he wouldn't notice it.  
Next, he was dressed in decent robes. Work robes, of course, but nothing  
like the drab thing he'd been wearing when Severus had visited ‘Sweet  
Thoughts'... When had it been? Last Christmas. Had it already been five,  
no, six months? The robe Percy was wearing was a duplicate of his own  
working wear, narrower body line with tight sleeves that didn't contaminate  
potions by dragging in them. Not in his preferred black, of course, but in an  
earthen tone that became the man.

Severus scowled as he returned to his potion.

Yes, of course, he noticed particularities of the man. Yes, Percy had put on  
some weight since he'd been here. And he'd trimmed that beard of his,  
keeping it to his upper lip with a rather attractive goatee, both clipped short  
so that neither served as strainer nor catch-all. Not unpleasant to look at.  
And though his hair had been unruly curls at school, now Percy kept it much  
shorter, close to the head at the sides with just enough length at the top to  
control the tendency to curl.

Severus reached for the sweetleaf he added to make the potion palatable.

While so engaged in evaluating his assistant, Severus had to admit, only to  
himself of course, that the red of Percy's hair and beard wasn't as irritating  
as that of the other Weasleys. To begin with, it was more auburn than  
flame-coloured. And it went well with that pale, almost milky skin of his.  
Not freckled as Charlie's was. Though it wasn't as pale as it had been back  
in December. When not working in the lab, or reading, Percy could be found  
in the garden. The skin that was exposed to the elements had taken on a  
slightly golden hue, like pale honey.

Severus stared down at the hands stirring the contents of his cauldron. It  
was getting harder to control the need to stroke that honeyed skin.

Because he had made himself one promise when Percy had followed him out  
of ‘Sweet Thoughts', that Percy would not ever be made to feel that he had  
to repay Severus's providing him with escape from an untenable situation by  
offering his body in payment.

He knew that the thought had crossed Percy's mind. Early on, there had  
been significant pauses by his bedroom door as Severus had opened his  
own. But Severus had only offer his "Good night" and left it at that.

But that didn't mean that he wasn't tempted. More so as the weeks passed  
and he and Percy adjusted to each other.

And then, there had been that incident with the partially open bathroom  
door, while Percy was stepping into the bath. All Severus had got was a  
quick back view – quick because though he had hesitated, he hadn't dared  
stop to take a good look – but that view had been enticing. Percy might not  
possess the blatant sexuality of Bill, nor the allure of danger of a dragon-  
rider like Charlie, not even the devil-may-care allure of the Twins, but what  
he did possess was certainly distracting enough to fuel Severus's  
masturbatory sessions since then.

And distracting enough now that he failed to pay the kind of attention the  
Acceptio Fanatica demanded. Otherwise he would have noticed  
immediately when the powdered Bleeding Heart did not react exactly as it  
should. The explosion took him by surprise.

He was suddenly surrounded by a thick, pink cloud that made it difficult to  
catch his breath. Before he had time to move away, hands grabbed him and  
pulled him out of the cloud then out of the laboratory and up the stairs.

"Are you all right?"

Severus dropped limply onto the embankment at the top of the stairway,  
gasping for breath. In spite of that, he found he was very aware of the  
hands that were now brushing at the skin of his face. He tried to pull away  
but that only set off another bout of coughing. The air around him was  
misted with pink-coloured spittle.

"Easy now. I can't think of anything poisonous in the potion, but don't try to  
move until you've stopped coughing."

Severus forced his mind away from those soothing hands and onto the list of  
ingredients he had already used in the potion. No, nothing poisonous. But  
since the powdered Bleeding Heart should not have reacted as it had to the  
previous ingredients, that wasn't saying much.

A hand lightly pushed against his shoulder. "Try to sit up straight. It'll make  
it easier to get the stuff out of your lungs." With the other hand, Percy  
began lightly tapping against Severus's back, probably hoping it would help  
him expel whatever the pink matter was.

Severus couldn't decide which was more embarrassing, the fact that he  
hadn't been paying proper attention to his work, or the small pink clouds  
which were expelled with each cough. He refused to consider the reaction of  
his cock to the hands touching him.

Severus managed to get his head up and the coughing under control. He  
brushed Percy's hand away from his face, using the gesture to wipe his  
streaming eyes. Damn it! His hand was streaked with pink paste. What the  
hell had happened? He'd only used a tablespoon of the stuff.

"Accio water!" Percy knelt in front of him and held the glass of water to his  
lips. "Here. Rinse out your mouth first."

Good idea. He had enough of that pink stuff on him; it wouldn't do to get  
any in him. Unfortunately, as he was ready to spit out, he coughed and  
ended up spraying the mouthful of water all over Percy. Who only wiped the  
liquid off his face with the sleeve of his robe before offering Severus the  
glass once more.

"Sips only."

It took several tries but eventually a sip did make its way down. As the  
coughing eased, Severus took the glass from Percy, thinking the man would  
now stop touching him. But he didn't. He did stand up, but it was to place  
one hand on Severus's shoulder, another on his back where it rubbed small  
circles. Probably thought it was easing him. Unfortunately, his cock found it  
anything but.

Severus wiped his face with his sleeve, noting that other than appearing  
pasty, the pink was not reacting in any manner with his skin. His vision no  
longer blurry with tears, he looked up to snap at Percy, something along the  
line of keeping his hands to himself. Except the snarl got caught somewhere  
in his throat.

Oh, Merlin! The look on Percy's face.

The only one who had ever looked at him with such sincere concern and  
worry had been Albus Dumbledore. And he had never been as beautiful as  
one Percy Ignatius Weasley.

For the span of a breath, Severus wanted. He wanted that face to  
look at him always that way. To have those hands continue touching him.  
To allow his cock satisfaction with more than his own hand. He wanted the  
right to touch, too. To discover what that beard felt like against his skin.

And then he shoved the wanting aside and coughed out, "Bl..blee...ding  
h...heart."

Percy crouched next to him, still keeping one tormenting hand on his  
shoulder. "It should have been pure. We just got it and Seoirgi is a reliable  
source."

"Wasn't. Something...in it." Severus used coughing as a pretext to stand,  
removing his body from the tantalising touch.

"Are you all right now?"

Percy's concern was rough on Severus's already ruffled nerves. "Yes, yes,"  
he snapped.

Percy finally got the message and moved back a step. "Perhaps you should  
go shower that stuff off you while I clean up the lab," he said quietly as he  
started down the steps.

Severus wanted to call the man back, to thank him for so quickly getting him  
out of the lab and for his care. But it was better this way. Better for both of  
them to keep their distances.

He did take out his bad humour on the letter he sent to Seoirgi after he had  
dealt with his troublesome cock in the shower. And he spent the rest of the  
day standing or sitting a good ten feet from Percy if he couldn't avoid him  
completely.


	2. Part 2 by Josan

Severus gave up trying to sleep around two in the morning. He did then  
what he usually did in such circumstances; he went downstairs, poured  
himself a glass of firewhiskey and took it and his horniness out to the garden  
with its breeze and cool air.

It was a lovely night, which didn't help his mood much. He sat on the bench  
that Percy had purchased because he said it added a certain beauty to the  
garden. Besides, he'd added, it was useful as well.

Severus stretched out his legs and glared at the glass he held in his hands.  
Somehow, he had the feeling that he had buggered up his life yet again.  
Why was he so surprised? It seemed to be his most common habit.

He thought he'd taught himself many decades ago not to want things he  
couldn't have. Oh, he knew that if he indicated to Percy that he wanted him  
over the work table in the lab, robe over his shoulders, legs spread wide  
apart, that lovely tight arse offered up for his usage, he could have it.

And he knew that he could make it good for the man. He could have him  
panting and gasping, even yowling and screaming for release. He knew  
what selfish lovers were like... Hell, Lucius was beautiful to look at but such  
a self-centered pig in bed. And he, Severus, was not Lucius.

He took a gulp of firewhiskey. Of course, he wasn't Lucius. Lucius had  
made a beautiful corpse, even considering the manner in which he'd died.  
Not at Severus's hands. Draco had taken care of that little matter. And he  
hadn't used the Killing Curse. But he had seen to it that his father's face had  
not been touched by the slashing spell he'd used. Malfoys were ever mindful  
of those kinds of things.

Severus leaned back so that he could rest his head against the top of the  
bench. The problem was that he wanted Percy to come to him voluntarily.  
Not because he was beholden to him.

"You want to talk about it?"

Dear Merlin! Severus closed his eyes. Why now?

"Do you?"

Severus forced his eyes open and glanced over his shoulder, ready to  
challenge Percy's question. The words caught in his throat. Percy was at  
the back door. Severus noticed that he wasn't wearing his glasses. He also  
noticed the pose. How could he not?

One shoulder and a hip were resting against the door jamb. His hands were  
shoved into the front pockets of the jeans, pulling the material even more  
over a fly that was only partially buttoned. The gesture had also pulled up  
the t-shirt he was wearing so that a stripe of skin divided the white of the  
top from the blue of the trousers. There was a shadow balanced over the  
open fly, Percy's navel.

Severus was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to push Percy against the  
wall and dip his tongue into that shadow while his hands pulled down the  
trousers that were barely holding onto hip bones begging to be discovered.

He swallowed hard and forced his stare onto the garden. His cock had other  
ideas. Severus took another mouthful of firewhiskey, happy that the robe  
he'd tossed on was an older one, from his days at Hogwarts, and therefore  
loose. With a casualness that was completely faked, he propped an ankle up  
on a knee, hoping that would help camouflage his body's betrayal.

"There's nothing to talk about. I'm just having a drink and enjoying the  
night sky."

Percy didn't move. Damn him.

"Severus. I know that I have a well-deserved reputation of being thick..."

"You are not!" Severus surprised himself with the vehemence of his  
defense. He covered it up with another sip.

"Yes, I am. In certain areas, especially when I refuse to see the truth."

The bloody man had moved, not inside as Severus had hoped, but closer to  
the bench, much closer than they had been since the explosion.

"But even I am not so blind as to have missed..."

Severus was delighted that the night's shadows hid the heat he felt warming  
his cheeks.

"Look, if you really don't want me, just tell me so. And if you find it easier,  
I'll move out."

Severus stilled. Dear Merlin! That wasn't what he wanted! He tried to  
respond but his throat was too dry in spite of the firewhiskey he'd been  
drinking. He cleared his throat then found enough moisture to rasp out, "I  
don't know what you're talking about."

Percy couldn't quite hide the anger. "Severus. I'm not a complete idiot.  
Don't treat me like one. Please. I had enough of that at home."

Severus glared at the drink in his hand, as though it were responsible for  
this situation. No such thing as ignoring it. Not now.

"No, of course, you're not an idiot." He aimed for conciliatory. "I'm sorry if I  
made you feel that way. If anyone is an idiot, it is I."

Percy took a step closer. "You, the idiot? What on earth would make you  
say that?"

"I shouldn't have brought you here."

"Oh. I see."

Severus was taken aback by the hurt he heard in Percy's voice. "I'll leave,  
of course. But I would like to know why you feel as you do."

Leave? What the hell was Percy on about? Severus turned to look up at the  
man whose shoulders were stooped as they had been when he'd first got  
here. He moved up to Percy's face and knew he hadn't imagined the hurt.

"You shouldn't be here where there's nothing for you," he said, his voice  
soft.

Percy cocked his head to one side and shifted his weight to a hip. "What  
nothing? I don't understand. There's more here for me than I could ever  
have hoped when I was released from Azkaban."

Severus scoffed. "Oh, yes," he spoke into his glass, "perhaps you want to  
waste the rest of your days assisting a bitter old man in making his little  
potions for the gentry."

He heard a gasp then, amazingly, that was followed by the kind of sound  
he'd often heard from Albus, a sort of attempt to cover up laughter. He felt  
the bitterness rise in him as his cock softened. Maybe that was better. Now  
the man could leave and he, Severus, wouldn't miss him.

"Severus, how much have you been drinking?"

Oh, so he was a drunk, now, was he! "This is my first," he growled, "as if it  
were any of your business."

"Good. I'm glad to hear it. That way you won't have any excuse not to  
participate in this discussion."

Severus made to rise but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. "No.  
We've spent the last five months pussy-footing around this discussion and  
it's time, Severus. For my own peace of mind...and hand."

Percy came around the bench and settled next to Severus, close but not  
touching. He stretched his long legs out and rested his head on the back of  
the bench. After a moment or two during which Severus did his best to keep  
his attention on the garden...but those long, high-arched bare feet insisted  
on being a distraction.

But suddenly they had competition. Damn Percy! He had pushed up the  
hem of his t-shirt a little higher and was scratching the pale skin of his  
stomach.

Then he stretched like a cat and the bloody waist of his jeans slipped further  
down his hips.

Severus managed to turn his head back to the garden, by now very aware  
that Percy had done all that on purpose and had been watching his response.

He checked out of the corner of his eye as he pretended to sip again and  
discovered that there was a very twinish smile on Percy's face.

"Since it's obvious that you don't intend to begin, I guess it's up to me."

Severus shrugged.

"Let's begin with that ‘bitter old man making his little potions for the gentry'.  
Merlin," said with a fair disgust, "what a pile of hogwash!"

Severus turned to respond but the villain had slipped a hand under the  
waistband of his jeans and was scratching. Instead of challenging the  
‘hogwash', he swallowed and tried, unsuccessfully, to draw his eyes away  
from the movement under the tight fabric.

"If anyone is ‘gentry', you are. The Snapes are one of the oldest families  
still in existence. They predate the Malfoys by a thousand years, the Blacks  
by a good five hundred. The Weasleys are older than both of those, but you  
Snapes still have a few years on us."

"Longevity doesn't count. The Malfoys and the Blacks could buy both  
families several times over and barely feel it."

Percy scoffed. "Money isn't everything."

Severus found the wherewithal to remove his eyes from the bewitching  
movement under the jeans and glare at him.

Percy shrugged. "That's what my parents always said. I didn't believe  
them. Not then. Now, I have to admit that they were right. Money makes  
life easier, but there are more important things."

Severus could tell that Percy wanted him to ask "What things?" but he  
refused to play along.

"Then there's that condescending crap about ‘little potions'. You, Severus  
Snape, are brilliant and you know it. Hell, everyone who sends an order  
knows it. That's why they pay the prices you charge and, at the rate orders  
are coming in, I'd say the Snape fortunes are well on the way to being  
rebuilt. Though, Merlin help you, when the Gryffindors find out that they've  
been paying more. Was it really necessary to charge Harry what you did for  
that Dreamless Sleep he ordered?"

"Mr Potter can well afford it. If he doesn't like it, he can find himself another  
brewer. Besides, he only places orders with me because Albus ‘suggested'  
it."

"The Minister knows that you charge... Oh, hell, yes, he would,  
wouldn't he?"

"Another illusion destroyed?" Severus snarked.

Percy rested his head back on the top of the bench. He was quiet for a  
minute then, "No, I guess not. I've always known that Headmaster  
Dumbledore was not unbiased. I guess maybe I thought now that he's  
Minister for Magic..."

Severus snorted. He raised his hand. "Accio Ogden's and another glass."

The glass arrived first and Severus had time to hand it to Percy before the  
firewhiskey arrived. He filled both of them up. Might as well. It seemed to  
be that kind of night.

"Thank you." Percy took a sip and let out a small sigh of approval. "I was  
never able to afford this quality and Fudge liked those syrupy liqueurs." He  
took another sip. "Now where were we? Oh, yes, ‘bitter old'."

"I can hardly wait," Severus muttered into his glass.

Percy ignored him. "The ‘old' first. You're what, mid forties? You can't be  
much older even if you taught Bill. I'm almost thirty. So, that makes you,  
what, fourteen years older than me?"

"Seventeen, actually."

Percy smirked. "Thanks. I was really only guessing."

Severus shook his head. Maybe this one was more Weasley than he'd given  
him credit for. Maybe he'd just been more subtle about it and it had taken  
Severus longer to catch on. He certainly was causing sparks to come to life  
in Severus's belly. Such as now, when Percy settled his glass on the bared  
skin of his stomach and then crossed his arms under his head, causing his  
hips to rise a little.

He couldn't be unaware of what he was doing, and not just to himself.  
Definitely more Weasley. Severus took a large swallow and hoped the liquid  
would put out the fire in his groin.

"Now then, that ‘bitter'. Can't argue with you there. I know that you have  
reason. I don't think I could have survived what you survived, done what  
you did with as little recognition as you've received. I can understand why  
my so-called contributions aren't lauded, but yours should be the subject of  
articles in Wizard Weekly. The Daily Prophet should be  
chasing you down for interviews. The..."

"Enough. Even if they did, they wouldn't hesitate to mention that I had once  
been a Death Eater and that, other than Albus Dumbledore, no one has ever  
been certain of my complete loyalty."

Severus was almost hurt when Percy didn't come to his defense. The man  
just took a sip of his drink then nodded. "Rather like the ones they did on  
me when I was released. Harry's testimony that I was not dangerous, just  
stupid may have got me out of Azkaban, but..."

He took another sip of his drink.

Severus nodded. "Yes. Damned with faint praise, I believe is the saying."

"Well, you do come off better," said Percy. "Dangerous but not stupid."  
Severus gave him the raised eyebrow and got a smile in return. "They don't  
trust you but they don't trust me either. I think that takes care of the  
‘wasting my time' bit."

"So you want to remain here," Severus allowed some of the bitterness to slip  
out, "because you don't think you'll be able to find a position anywhere else."

Percy shrugged and offered, rather lightly, "I could always go back to ‘Sweet  
Thoughts'."

"No." Severus didn't find that suggestion even remotely funny.

"No, I suppose not. The Twins would make me beg for it and I would rather  
beg you."

Severus felt insulted. "I have never made you beg for  
anything!"

Percy sighed unhappily. "No. I know. I had been rather hoping. I know  
that you didn't make any actual promises when you brought me here..."

"Promises! What the hell are you talking about? What promises?"

"Well," Percy reached down and set his glass on the lawn. "Not overt  
promises. Not like: I, Severus Snape, do promise to fuck one Percy  
Weasley..."

"Percy."

"...within an inch of his life..."

"Percy."

"...on a regular basis."

"Percy!"

"Say once a day."

"Once...once a day?"

"Well, I certainly wouldn't be adverse to more, but since you're such an  
old man..."

"Old!" Severus dropped his glass to the ground as he turned to face the  
man tormenting him. "Percy. I did not bring you here to..."

"To fuck me? Pity. I was rather looking forward to that."

Severus was almost speechless. He had to take a deep breath and then  
another. "Percy. I did not bring you here to have you service me."

"Service, eh?" Percy pulled himself up and turned so that he could face  
Severus. "Is that what you've been waiting for all this time. For me to offer  
to service you?"

"Yes. No. No." Damn the man! This wasn't coming out well. And Percy's  
face reflected his inability to explain himself. He took a deep breath and  
tried again. For a man who didn't talk much about himself, this was not  
particularly easy.

"Look, Percy. I know what it's like in Azkaban. You know that I do."

"Mutton."

Severus shrugged. "And other things."

Percy nodded.

"And I know how grateful one is to the one who is responsible for one's  
release from the place."

"You didn't arrange my release, Severus."

"Not from Azkaban. But the situation I found you in at Christmas wasn't that  
much better. Or have you forgotten a certain vial? I can assure you that I  
have not."

"Is that what you felt when you got out? Gratitude?"

"Yes."

"To Minister Dumbledore?"

"Yes."

Percy was still for a moment then he nodded. "So did he allow you to  
service him?"

Severus hesitated, but somehow he needed Percy to understand, so he  
revealed, "I offered."

"You offered." There was a hint of something in Percy's voice that caught  
Severus's attention. "Did he accept?"

"No, he didn't."

"Why not?"

The something scratched at Severus's nerves. "He already had someone in  
his bed."

"He didn't want you."

The something had diminished, just a little. Severus suddenly realised that  
he knew that something. He had heard it in his own voice all too often.  
Jealousy. Why would...

"No, he didn't. He said he...cared for me, but not in that way."

"That's good."

Then why was Percy's voice so edged? "So you understand."

Percy sat straighter. "Remember me. I'm the not-dangerous-but-stupid  
one. I don't understand."

Severus wanted to pull his hair. Why was Percy making this so difficult?  
Damn, he was developing a headache and that was not something he  
needed right now. "Now you understand why I didn't take you up on your  
offers."

"Ah, I had wondered. Thought I had lost some of my touch. Nice to know  
that I haven't."

"I won't take you, Percy. Not because I don't want to. I do. But because I  
won't have someone in my bed who feels beholden to me."

"And you think all I feel is beholden."

"Yes. I mean, what other reason..."

"You know, Severus, you are a very powerful wizard."

Yes, he knew that. Why had Percy seen fit to interrupt him with that piece  
of non-news?

Percy kept on. "Much more powerful than I could ever hope to be. But I  
suddenly have the greatest desire to beat the crap out of you."

Severus blinked. "What?"

"I don't mind the bitter, it's the blindness that really pisses me off."

Astonishingly, Percy was angry. No, more than angry: livid.

Severus surreptitiously reached for his wand. What the hell was going on?  
"I don't know what you're talking about." He slipped the wand out of his  
robe. Better prepared than taken by surprise.

"What other reason?" Percy did a fair imitation of Severus's voice. "Bloody  
hell, man, do you want me to list them?"

"I still don't know ..."

Percy leaned over and grabbed Severus by the robe and hauled him over.  
Before Severus could get his wand up to deal with this sudden madman,  
Percy had slammed his lips against Severus's mouth.

It was not a gentle kiss. It revealed not just anger, but frustration.  
Probably, when Severus had time to think about it, months' worth of  
frustrations.

When Percy finally needed to breathe, he pulled back. He glared at Severus  
who recovered quickly enough to bring his wand up.

"What the hell..."

"Oh, stop acting like the Virgin Bride. It doesn't become you, Severus  
Snape." And he pulled Severus to him again.

This time the kiss was gentler. There was no grinding of teeth against his  
lips, but the frustration was still there. Severus could taste it when Percy  
persuaded him to open his mouth and his tonsils were formally introduced to  
Percy's tongue. Somehow, it was only polite that he return the courtesy.

He discovered that the moustache and the beard were not as scratchy as he  
had expected. Soft really, in a bristly way.

He became aware that Percy's hands were busy. Of course, there was more  
material on his side so it took longer for Percy's hands to find his skin. He,  
on the other hand, had only to push up the t-shirt that had dared taunt him.

Oh, Merlin! What he had wanted...

Severus pulled away.

"Wha...?"

"No. Percy."

Percy passed his hands over his head and groaned. "You are going to be the  
death of me."

"Percy. Be reasonable."

"Severus. I am tired of being reasonable. It's never got me what I wanted.  
I was reasonable at home, but I was never taken seriously by either of my  
parents, or by the rest of my family. I was reasonable at school, and though  
it got me Penelope Clearwater, she was only dating me because she wanted  
to prove something to her parents. I was reasonable at the Ministry, and all  
it got me was Azkaban. I want you, Severus. And I don't intend to be  
reasonable about it."

Severus shook his head. "How... Why can you want me?"

"Oh, don't start with that gratitude bit again. I swear I'll... Hell, I don't  
know what I'll do, but it won't be pretty." Percy leaned over and stoked his  
lips against Severus's. The moustache tickled his nose. "Let's get the  
gratitude stuff out of the way first." His teeth tugged gently at Severus's  
lower lip.

Oh, Merlin! That was so good! Severus wanted more but Percy pulled away.

"Look, I appreciate all that you did for me when I first got here. Yes, I  
wasn't in great shape, but you saw to it that I had something worthwhile to  
do. Don't you think I know why you let me loose with the inventory? And I  
know it was no coincidence when the vial of Dreamless Sleep appeared on  
the counter in the bathroom. And I doubt that you were so concerned with  
regular mealtimes before I got here."

Severus wanted to speak, but fingertips held back his words as they  
skimmed back and forth on his lips. He fought the sudden desire to capture  
them with his mouth and suck on them.

"And I do know how hard it was for you to allow me to rummage  
through your shelves. But you knew that I needed something to keep my  
mind occupied and you gritted your teeth and didn't wince, all that much,  
whenever I took a book down to read."

Severus had to respond to that. "I don't wince..."

"No, not any more. See, you've come to trust me, Severus. Even with the  
most precious of your possessions. And I am honoured that you do."

Severus didn't know how to respond to that last statement so he leaned over  
and kissed Percy. A slow, unhurried, appreciative kiss.

Both men were silent when Severus finally broke it off. Percy turned his face  
into Severus's neck and took a deep breath. Severus couldn't believe the  
sparks that sensation of beard against skin set off.

"Oh, Severus, why wouldn't I want you? You're..."

"Don't you dare say handsome!" Oh, not good. Even he could hear the pain  
in his voice.

Percy's hands came up and captured Severus's face. "No, I won't. You  
aren't handsome, Severus. You look worn out and tired, even now, a year  
after the War. But the care you're providing for me is dealing with that. As  
for your looks, well, you've got a nose a bloodhound would kill for."

Severus stiffened but Percy wouldn't let him pull out of his touch.

"You need a good haircut. A decent shampoo. Your mother obviously never  
told you not to open bottles with your teeth."

"I have never..."

"And you have the temperament of a Tasmanian Devil on a good day."

"Thank you so very much," he snarled.

"But..."

Severus found he was actually holding his breath.

"But you have the most beautiful eyes. I love watching your eyes, do you  
know that, Severus?"

No, he hadn't.

"Ginny would kill for those eyelashes. You'd better never need glasses or  
you'll have to wipe them clean all the time."

Severus blinked. Eyelashes were eyelashes. Weren't they? He stopped  
trying to pull out of Percy's grasp.

"And your hands. I dream about those hands. About them touching me.  
About me licking them."

"They're stained," whispered Severus. This was too...weird. Someone had  
to be...reasonable.

"An artist's hands should be stained. Severus. Doesn't make them less  
beautiful. Less wonderful."

Severus shrugged, a little embarrassed.

"And your intelligence. Damn, that's sexy."

"Sexy?"

Percy laughed softly at Severus's surprise. The sound went straight to his  
cock.

"Yes, sexy. After all, we can't spend all our time in bed, making love."

Love? Who was talking about love? Severus felt himself pull back mentally  
from the pleasure of Percy's words.

Percy must have sensed that as he leaned his forehead on Severus's and  
whispered between short, scattered kisses on Severus's face, "Making love,  
Severus. Not servicing. And the only gratitude coming from the pleasure  
we give each other."

"Percy."

"I saw the want in your eyes this morning, Severus. The need."

This was too much. Too many revelations. He didn't want this. Severus  
went to pull away.

Percy's hands slipped to Severus's shoulders and he gripped hard. "You're  
the one who wanted to know the whys, now have the courage to listen to  
them."

Severus made him wait a moment before nodding.

"Over the past six months, we've come to know each other. Maybe not all  
the particulars but the important stuff. I know that you like Muggle-brewed  
tea and the stronger the better. I've learnt to drink my tea the same way,  
for you. In return you allow me to cut my toast in squares without making  
any comment about how fussy I am. You never say anything about the fact  
that I want only two of the squares with jam and the others with cheese."

"This is important?"

Percy smiled and Severus had to restrain himself from covering it with his  
own mouth.

"More couples break up over breakfast than any other thing. It's very  
important. Now keep quite and listen."

Severus caught his lower lip with his upper teeth.

Percy closed his eyes. "Don't do that. Not until I'm done."

Severus could hear the desire in his voice and though he wanted to see just  
how far he could tease this man, he also realised that he wanted to hear  
what he had to say.

"We work well together. I don't think I'm fooling myself when I say that."

Not a question, but Severus shook his head.

"And I like brewing potions with you. Far saner work than anything I did at  
the Ministry. More worthwhile, too."

Severus couldn't argue with that.

"And we like many of the same things. Just enough to be comfortable with  
each other."

Severus nodded. Well, it was true.

"And there's enough mystery left to keep us interested, for many years to  
come, I hope."

What could Severus say? So he did nothing, he just waited.

"And I don't think I'm fooling myself when I say we care for each other.  
Maybe not the kind of romantic caring that my parents had for each other  
when they got married. But the kind we can build on."

Severus looked down at the ground. There was such hope in Percy's voice.  
Hope that he had never allowed himself to feel.

"Look, Severus. If you can't bear the thought of touching me..."

"No! Not that!" Severus's hands reached up to hold Percy's face. "Never  
believe that." Oh, Merlin! How could he find the words? He was never very  
good with these kinds of words. Words that made people understand that  
they were important to him. He was fine with disparage, mockery. Snarls  
and smirks. Those kinds of things. But when he really wanted them, like  
now, words failed him.

But, wonders of wonders, Percy seemed to understand. He nodded, very  
seriously. "Good. Because, you know, Severus, I dream of making a life  
with you. Of taking you to London and showing you Muggle bars where no  
one will know us and where we can talk and dance and I can show you off."

Severus scoffed, but then felt obliged to soothe his response by passing his  
lips along the line of Percy's jaw, the beard another sensation he truly  
wanted to learn. They might not be able to go much into their own  
wizarding world, but Percy was right: Muggles didn't know them from Merlin.  
As for the showing off, if it came to that, he would be the one doing  
the showing off.

Percy's voice dropped several notes and he purred. "I dream of growing old  
with you. And I dream of taking you to bed, Severus. I dream of touching  
you all over."

Percy's hands were doing their best to put his words into action. Severus  
almost whimpered when slightly rough fingertips found his nipples. He  
heard a soft laugh in his ear, but then he slipped his hands into the back of  
those jeans and Percy jerked, enough so that Severus could tell he was not  
the only one with an erection.

Percy took his revenge by tweaking the small nubs of flesh, and Severus  
couldn't hold back the sound he'd been keeping in his throat.

"Of making you sigh and gasp and moan and..." Percy turned his head,  
allowing Severus more of his neck to explore. "And I dream of coming in  
you...and – Oh! Don't stop doing that! – of your coming in me."

Severus moaned aloud at the images Percy was calling up for him. And at  
the hand that grasped his cock through his robe.

"But most of all, most of all, Severus, I dream...of making you scream. You  
scream my name...Severus!...Oh, god! Only my name...when I finally...let  
you...come."

And he did.


End file.
